The fight of your life
by Lidi
Summary: Draco/Harry. Slash! Draco and Harry have a fight. But the end is unexpecting... Believe me.


**Author's notes: Harry thoughts will be _like this _in the beginning of the fic. I hope later you'll be able to tell youself who's thinking now :)**

**It's slash (in case if you haven't got it yet).******

**The fight of your life**

**_~By Lidi~_**

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_What a day! At first Snape accused me of being inaccurate and took 10 points from Gryffindor, then Ron was making dirty jokes about me and Ginny - like his relationships with Hermione are perfect. Not that bad day as to think of it. And still I feel horrible._

Harry was walking though dark halls of the dungeons, concentrated on his own depressive thoughts.

_  
And this stupid idea of Hermione to meet here - of course it was a matter of life and death if she wanted to tell me 'important news' without witnesses. Deadly important news. _

Then suddenly he was blinded by harsh light appearing out of nowhere and totally disoriented as many voices surrounded all space around him, shouting and cheering:

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

He blinked and tried to adjust to the light by slightly opening one eye. Finally he could tell there were at least 80 people in the room. 

"What?"

  
To say he was surprised would be huge underestimation.  
  
Hermione was almost jumping of joy.

"You're surprised" - she continued her happy dance by stunned Harry. - "You didn't expected this, right?"

"Yes" - Harry astonishment was oblivious.

"Don't look so sour" - Hermione's sunny smile almost gone, - "Don't tell me you're not glad?" 

Harry would do everything not ruin "happy-birthday" spirit of his best friend.

"Of course I'm glad", - He smiled, as proving that it was the best surprise in his life,- 

"It's so great! I was just...taken aback" - he looked heartening at Hermione, - "But I'm really happy."

Harry hugged her with maybe little too much affection than supposed to.

"Hermione, thank you!"

As Harry released her he noticed that Hermione's face was flushing a bit. 

_I wonder, if she just so happy that I liked her surprise or that I hugged her. Nah, it couldn't be. We've been hugging for, what, almost 10 years now? And she never reacted this way._

"So, are you going to see your presents or continue sexually harass my girlfriend?" - Ron was smiling at him, -"Happy bir..."- he was going to continue but stopped as he heard poisonous voice behind.

"She get used to it. Such a slut", - Malfoy was as evil and cold as ever. Staring at Ron's back, waiting for red to react.

But the one of the best Quidditch players, who was unfortunate enough to have a birthday party, was faster than Ron. And now Harry was holding his friend, preventing him from some stupid steps, such as a murder. He darted a glance at his enemy.

  
"Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"How could I miss birthday of Harry Potter", - he pronounced every word slowly, carefully and acidly.

Hermione was embarrassed - "Sorry, Harry - I was going to write named invitations, but then decided the more guests come the better"

"It's not your fault, Hermione!" - Harry tenderly smiled at upset girl.

"Let me go, Harry! I'll beat creep out of this git!" - Ron tried to struggle, but steal grasp of two hands didn't let go.

_It's good I've been working out this year._

"Malfoy - just get the hell our of here!"

All guest was standing around, watching with great interested at was promised to be much more exciting than ordinary b-day party. Even it was to be 18th of The Boy That Lived.

"Why should I? Everyone could come. So I did. Aren't you happy to see me here?"

"Harry, please, let me kill him!" - Ron was still hoping to free from Harry's grip.

"Malfoy, I'm not going to waste any more minute of my b-day on you. So get out of here. Now"

Harry voice was threatening, dreadful, distant. No one wanted to be on Draco's place now. 

But blond guy seemed to be confident in himself. He declared with a challenge so everyone would hear.

"Or you do what? Hound your," - slight emphasizing pause, - "poor," - derisive smile, "friend on me?"

Harry has been waiting for it. He wanted to do it for so many years. But there always were something that stopped him. Any excuse. Any polite and "right" and "decent" and so "harry-potterish" excuse. 

From their first meeting, when Malfoy didn't know with whom he was talking with, he managed to offence Harry, made him feel miserable. And from that day on they were abusing each other. Malfoy was abusing Harry, to be more correct, he was abusing his friends, his family, his House, his pride. Everything his dirty mind could reach. And he was successful in getting on Harry's nerves. 

It was full, reach, outstanding mutual feeling of hate. A day without squabble seemed incomplete. Harry always tried to stay calm. He was the one who would stop Ron or Hermione from continuing verbal duel with Malfoy, before it could become more serious. He was the one who would ignore endless tricks of Malfoy. He was the one who wouldn't pay back the way Malfoy was provoking him to, coz he didn't want to sink to his worst enemy level. He was supposed to be the one who would quiet Ron now. 

And he wasn't supposed to push Ron away with such strength that poor boy hit the wall after flying several meters. He wasn't supposed to cast spell what wouldn't allow anyone interrupt his fight with Malfoy. He wasn't supposed to be smashing other boy's face during his b-day party or any other time. He wasn't supposed to be so filled with anger that he was ready to kill.

But it all didn't matter coz the fight began and it was the most terrible and bloody fight anyone saw. As Harry was kicking, pitching, smashing Malfoy's passive body, Hermione was crying on the floor, in uncontrollable hysterics, desperate and powerless. She couldn't do anything to prevent it. To prevent her best friend from either a murder or a death. It was the scariest moment in her life. And she couldn't even watch it. But she involuntarily looked at the fight scene as she heard terrible, creepy gasp of everyone who was in that room: when Harry stopped for a split second, Malfoy gathered his strength and hit Harry in kidneys. Draco was much weaker than Harry. He wasn't ready for fight at all. He wasn't ready for Harry sudden attack. He wasn't ready for a fury or Harry's strokes. And he wasn't ready to loose this battle. 

He hated this Potter so much he couldn't even tell. From their first meeting he could feel pre-eminence of that small, stupid boy with huge green eyes. He didn't put any effort in anything he did, and yet he was better. Potter always has superiority over him. Unquestionable, unbreakable, unspoken and unbearable. It was a torture. Whatever Draco tried to do to broke that boy, to spoil him, to make him worse - nothing worked. And with every quarrel, every match, every war Potter became stronger and Draco - weaker. And yet he couldn't stop. He was continuing this endless and pointless competition. 

And he wasn't going to give up this time. The only time when Potter let his feeling out. His evil site was controlling him. And if Draco would let Harry kill him - he would win his biggest major war with Potter. But he wasn't that strong to be weak and not fight back. He wasn't fighting back for several eternal minutes. But he couldn't take it anymore. He was too weak. 

Cruel hit in that familiar face. In the face with emerald eyes that always were so calm and now were radiating anger and hate. The sound of smash of Draco's fist and Potter's jaw. The sound of the crowd, waiting for circuses. Waiting for only one of them to come our from that fight alive.

Too weak. 

Another blow - this time somewhere in chest. How can you tell where you hit your enemy when you can't realize what's going on? You can't see anything but swallowed, covered with blood silhouette of you hatred enemy. Your only reason of living. Yours everything. Your siamise foe. 

To weak.

Potter is unbelievably strong. He's throwing me into the wall. He smashes every inch of my aching, senseless body into that f***ing wall. His body presses me so I can't fall. All I fell is pain, coming from everywhere, and I don't know where he hits me now. I can't feel anything now. Only a slight glimpse of triumph. Maybe my weakness is my luck. And he'll kill me, and I'll be the winner. For the first time. For the last time.

Harry couldn't stop himself from beating Malfoy. He was putting all hate, all anger, all disappointment, all agony, all fears, all desperation in it. He couldn't see his face. Malfoy was almost unconscious, his head felt on his chest. This fragile body was so close and it was loosing last warmth of life. It was disappearing. It wasn't Malfoy anymore. It was a flesh. All broken, bloodless, empty flesh. Only a shell. A shell of a person. Of Draco. The only man in the world he hated most of all. Coz he was the only one who made him feel so twisted, sick, wrong - and complete.

Some girls were in faint. Almost all of guests were in such shock they couldn't do anything - think, realize, blink, breathe, cry, stand, hope. Dumbledore and all other teachers were trying to uncast the spell, but even the best and most powerful wizards couldn't overcome it. The more intense fight was, the stronger feelings were arisen during the fight - the more forceful the spell became. 

Harry energy was on its verge. He was not himself anymore. He was living hate. Living pain. Unless he admits the truth he wouldn't be able to stop. But how he could tell it even in such crucial situation, how could he admit the truth. And it was his weakness. The deeper he tried to hide it, the more uncontrollable he became, and it was all Malfoy's fault. 

It was like hit a bunny. So soft and helpless. Harry hated Malfoy for that. He was the embodiment of his weakness. Of his darkest fear. Of the most terrible truth he was not to admit. 

Why Harry stopped? Why he doesn't do anything to me anymore? I wish I could raise my head to look into his eyes. I can't. I can't do anything. But I'm happy. I almost won this war. War of all my life.

I felt. Yes, I think I felt, coz I can lie still now. I don't have to do anything. Just wait. And I'll make it. The simplest victory in my life. Last one, but the best.

I feel his fingers - tender, caressing fingers - on my face. Now I can see his eyes. 

The most beautiful eyes I know. I'm lucky this eyes would be the last I see. He's not hating me. He's not. Now he knows the truth. He's ready to admit it. Harry.

I've been waiting for him to kiss me since I saw him for the first time. Finally he did it. Tender kiss on the lips. I can feel his sorrow and pain - it's enormous. I wish I can say something to take it away. To make you feel better. But I can't. I just lie. I can't see anything anymore. He kisses me like I'm already dead, but I'm not and his hot lips against mine...I'm ready to pay the highest price for that. 

I felt something warm and painful - tears. His tears. It hurts. It burns my skin. But he kisses this pain away. 

Harry, why should it take my life to prove you love me? But I'm happy, Harry. I won. And you too.


End file.
